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Squire Austin, a biker for 32 years, sits on his Harley outside Throttle Twisters bar on Aug. 18, 2003. For ceremonial rides, Austin enjoyed wearing a top hat. As a young African-American, Austin marched for open housing and equal rights in Milwaukee. Journal Sentinel files

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In this 2003 photo, Squire Austin, a lifelong biker and Harley-Davidson fan, sits on his bike outside Throttle Twisters Bar, also the home of the Wolf Pack motorcycle club.(Photo: Journal Sentinel files)

As a young black man, Squire Austin understood there were streets he dare not cross and neighborhoods where he wasn't welcome.

The civil rights marches of the 1960s were a chance to change that, and he was all in.

Austin introduced himself to the NAACP and signed on as one of the Commandos, a uniformed force formed in 1966 that protected the marchers and their leaders from the fists and fury of white Milwaukeeans who saw them as invaders on their streets.

"We marched for open housing, equality and just basic equal rights under the Constitution of the United States," Austin said in an interview for a 2011 PBS documentary, "Freedom Walkers for Milwaukee."

"If someone tried to infiltrate the line, we would eject them. The sad part was that the police were not on our side, which is protection we should have had."

Barely over 20 then and fresh from serving in the Air Force, Austin went to jail more than once for his commitment to the movement. And he learned the power of speaking out and standing tall on the right side of history.

Proclaimed by a friend to be "a strong black man from a strong black family," Austin died on Jan. 24 at age 71. After suffering from heart problems for years, Austin collapsed at a north side post office and was rushed to a hospital where attempts to save his life were not successful.

Born and raised in Milwaukee, Austin graduated from Riverside High School, which he recalled in a 2008 interview was nearly all white back then. "But I survived," he laughed.

Austin then served his country in the U.S. Air Force and returned to Milwaukee where racial tensions were rising. Part of his job as a Commando was to protect movement leaders like Father James Groppi and Vel Phillips, as well as visiting celebrities such as Dick Gregory and Marlon Brando.

One particularly daunting duty of a Commando was starting the leaders' vehicles, just in case an enemy had planted explosives in them. "He said Father Groppi's life was much more valuable to the movement than his," recalled Austin's sister, Claudette Austin, one of his five siblings.

Austin's nephew, Luis Saafir, added, "He did not fear what could happen to him because the realization of true safety, true freedom and a true life for him and the black community meant much more."

At the same time, Austin was developing a strong interest in motorcycles, especially Harley-Davidsons. He got a bike and joined the popular and predominantly African-American Throttle Twisters riders club, and in 1994 started the Wolf Pack motorcycle club. Austin would ride the rest of his life.

At ceremonial rides, you could spot Austin as the guy in a top hat. He loved to wear Harley gear of all types and showed his artistic skill by making leather accessories like bracelets and lettering for vests.

Austin ran a bar downtown, later worked as a school security officer and retired from Johnson Controls. He raised a daughter and son, Janay and Ricky, and years ago moved back into the family home near 2nd and Center streets to help care for his aging mother, Geraldine, who is now 93. Austin's late father, Square Austin, worked at American Motors and was a preacher.

Bill Austin said his brother Squire, called Bam or Bam Bam by those who loved him, was a man of integrity and involvement.

"He was a strong voice in the community. He was a strong advocate in the neighborhood. Like my father before him, he would reach out to the little kids in the neighborhood and give them something to do, talk to them, give them books," he said.

A longtime friend and former co-worker, Cynthia Costello-Horan, said Austin was the most caring man she ever met. "We used to go fishing out at Beaver Dam, and the ones that he didn't want, instead of throwing them back, he'd pass on to people in his neighborhood that didn't have enough food."

Friend Darrell Moore said Austin was good about organizing processions of riders at funerals of fellow motorcyclists. I hope he got many at his.